long time no self-indulgent yimmer yammer.

i suppose i have been off on some sort of mind-sabbatical. and by that i mean absolutely nothing clever (though, perhaps initially it sounded kind of cool). fact is, i've been slack slack slack on the writing writing writing - well, at least, where this sort of writing is concerned. this is about as close to a dear diary as i'm a getting, and well, as you see, it's not the most illuminating, personal thing. mostly it's just me writing circles round my neurotic self - hemming and hawing and oohing and ahhing about my own melodramas. but all in the vaguest, vaguest way. yes, i am king of waxing so poetic that nothing ever seems concrete.

anyhow, tis march. the month of teetering into spring. the month of loving everything. or, so i am finding. ok, ok, there's the usual melancholy that accompanies small losses and minor tragedies...but these things are i suppose ephemeral. i will persevere. and figure stuff out. and think of far more beautiful ways to describe my adventures. really, sometimes i cringe at my own pedestrian way of documenting. i mean, who better to romanticize the shit out of my own life than me? and yet, i self-deprecate myself into oblivion. is that me being humble or me choosing to bumble through the possibility of greatness?

no matter.